There’s an old expression about living in Juneau: “When you’re no longer happy skiing in the rain, it’s time to leave town.”
I’m hoping we don’t get there, at least not soon. I didn’t sign up for Juneau when I moved here 39 years ago.
But my wife woke me up early last Monday so I could get out skiing before the rain.
Temperatures on Sunday had climbed about 14 degrees during an all-day snowfall and the weatherman said our 10-day cold snap would end abruptly with rain by Monday afternoon. That left a short window for enjoying the snow.
Winters in Haines always have fluctuated between heavy snow and heavy rain, but it seems that the window between frozen precipitation and the liquid variety used to be longer. Where once there were a few days to enjoy snow before it became slush, now there are a few hours.
Which would align with a climate change projection I saw a few years back, that towns in northern latitudes could expect a long-term shift to weather from about 100 miles south. That’s Tenakee weather if you live in Haines.
Worse news came just after Christmas when climate scientists predicted unless action is taken on climate change, winter snowpack could disappear completely from the Lower 48 by 2100, except at higher elevations.
One in every eight recreational ski areas would never again see natural snow. The Rocky Mountains would see a 23 percent decline in annual snow cover days. Between 1955 and 2022, the April snowpack in the American West dropped that much, particularly in Washington, Oregon and northern California.
Your jigsaw puzzle depicting a scenic photo of a snowy Vermont morning would become a collector’s item.
That’s bad news for skiers but worse for the health of our forests and critters that spend much of their winters beneath snow, like voles and hibernating bears. Rivers depend on snowmelt to swell each springtime, allowing fish like salmon to make their way into the ocean.
Snowmelt also keeps our forest – and the Tongass is the northernmost end of the same forest that extends north from California – from catching fire too quickly in the drier months of early summer.
In nature, as in the rest of our lives, timing is important.
It’s Jan. 12 tonight and rain is pouring down all the way to the Canada border. A friend who has taken daily weather readings at 40 Mile for nearly 50 years says he still has snow on his property, but this winter’s total snowfall there is just 5 feet 9 inches, compared to 12 feet, 11 inches at this time last year and 8 feet in winter 2022-23.
In less than a month, Haines is scheduled to celebrate “Winterfest” with a snowmachine race on the Haines Highway in Canada, a Ripinsky mountaintop foot race and “Winter Games” for youngsters at the fairgrounds’ Dalton City.
Last year, organizers of the youth games were able to get a pile of nearby snow excavated and laid down on the bare street of Dalton City to make possible events like snowshoe races. Unless the temperature drops and some storms come, there may not be piles of snow to steal from this year.
Winterfest may become “Not So Winterfest” and we’ll devise rain-based outdoor events, whatever those may be. Perhaps we can phone friends in Ketchikan. Certainly they’ll know.
Eventually people in Haines may become content – even happy – skiing in the rain. But that will be an adjustment, as will be abiding darker and drearier winters.